


in the city of my heart

by astrolesbian



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, anyway theyre in love and if anyone implies otherwise ill choke them out, i came here for elisa and zaki and no one else, if i get something wrong dont @ me i LITERALLY do not watch this hell show, lots of really DUMB metaphor about home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 17:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15394179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrolesbian/pseuds/astrolesbian
Summary: He hasn’t said his name out loud for two years. It’s strange. He feels like he can’t. Like if he says it — even in the darkness of his room, to himself — Adam will vanish from his mind. His memories are all he has, right now.But not for long. They’re home.He corrects himself. They’re on Earth. Whether Shiro is going to get to go home remains to be seen.





	in the city of my heart

They’re welcomed with a lot of excitement by the people from the Garrison. Matt ends up being there, having flown ahead to prepare them for a) the return of several people presumed dead and b) the existence of aliens and interstellar wars. He’s done a good job, considering, which means he’s convinced exactly the whole base that he’s not bullshitting them but not managed to convince them to do anything else productive.

“Everyone is just freaking out instead of doing something that might actually help,” Matt explains, cutting his eyes at some of the research division. “Pidge, Hunk, you guys come with me. We can do this with our eyes closed.” With that, they all vanish. Shiro _still_ hasn’t seen them, and it’s been, like, twelve hours.

Allura and Coran have gone off with some political representatives to talk about whatever political representatives need to talk about, war and peace and the future of Earth now that the people of Earth know they are not alone. Lance, who flew them all down in Red and who has been awake for a full fifty-one hours, helping plan things and listening to Nyma’s reconnaissance reports of the Galra, tells them goodnight and falls asleep on the couch, his head on Keith’s thigh. Keith combs through his hair with one hand and messes with a holographic display of potential fighting patterns with the other. Shiro drops into a chair, also intending to doze. It’s been a long day.

But his mind wanders, and he ends up sitting there, eyes closed, thinking of what it means to be back on Earth. And thinking of Adam. When he thinks of Earth, he always ends up thinking about Adam, too, sooner or later. Earth, to Shiro, is all inexplicably tied up in the suntanned, freckled expanse of Adam’s shoulders, and their vacations to the beach and the mountains where he would get sunburnt and complain the whole way home. It’s the way he always avoided cracks in sidewalks, like the plague, the way he drank his coffee black with the barest hint of honey in place of actual sugar. It’s his smile, glasses falling down his nose. Shiro’s mouth on the corner of Adam’s jaw, coaxing him to bed when he stayed up too late. The skin-warmed metal of the ring on his finger when he’d touch the side of Shiro’s face.

Shiro knows, logically, that Earth is the forest and the ocean, too. It’s just that Shiro had never been too preoccupied with falling in love with the world until he fell in love with Adam, and then everything seemed different, brighter. He started to notice other things, things like the light through the trees, the sound of the ocean; started to take his time and breathe in the universe and affix it in his memory, to celebrate it. Shiro knows Earth is the forest and the ocean, but those things all seem less important, somehow, than Adam’s face and eyes and hair, his always-dry hands and hatred of beer and all the other things about him that Shiro has memorized. So Earth is Adam, because Earth is home, and home is Adam. Simple math.

He hasn’t said his name out loud for two years. It’s strange. He feels like he can’t. Like if he says it — even in the darkness of his room, to himself — Adam will vanish from his mind. His memories are all he has, right now.

But not for long. They’re home.

He corrects himself. They’re on Earth. Whether Shiro is going to get to go home remains to be seen.

Before he can examine that thought too deeply, there’s a noise in the doorway, the sound of loud voices — muffled enough that he can’t make out the words, sharp enough that he understands the tone. A scuffle, then pounding feet, running closer and closer. Keith takes out a knife, in preparation, but then the door swings open, and it’s not some Galra soldier, or some hidden threat, just a human man with glasses and brown eyes. Shiro can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

There’s a silver ring still on his left hand.

 _He kept it,_ Shiro thinks, suddenly so full of emotion it makes him almost nauseous. _Oh, God._

“Takashi,” Adam breathes. “You’re alive.”

Shiro stands. Keith is watching him, eyes alert and proud, the sort of sharp, knowing pride that it’s unfair for Keith to have such a handle on, because it’s usually the domain of older siblings and Keith is supposed to be Shiro’s stupid baby brother. Adam is watching him too, hands shaking.

“You’re here,” Shiro says, stupidly. He has imagined this moment so many times, yet now that it’s here, he can’t understand what’s happening. He just feels overwhelmed, and shaky. His blood seems like it’s moving through his body with more purpose than before. “You’re actually—”

Adam nods, a jerky and uncertain motion that Shiro wants to rid him of. He never wants Adam to feel uncertain around him. He wants — he wants—

“I took the first flight here, the second I heard,” Adam says. “God, I was so fucking — I’m so sorry, Takashi, the last thing I said to you was so awful — and then you _died._ ”

“Shit,” Shiro says, “shit, just — just come here, _please,_ ” and then Adam is running again, running at him, and they crash into each other and Adam buries his head against Shiro’s shoulder and Shiro holds him tight, and close, and he smells like his stupid mint-coconut shampoo and there’s a little bit of peeling dead skin from a sunburn on the back of his neck and he’s sobbing, from the gut, and he’s _home_ , home, home. He hasn’t felt like this in so long. He hasn’t felt this _much_ in so long. Without Adam he was numb, everything grey and cold, the world a trial to go through and not a thing to be loved and enjoyed. His friends helped, and Keith helped, but the loss of Adam’s love weighed on him, the knowledge that he would probably never see him again, the knowledge that their last conversation had been a stupid fight. But Adam’s here, and against all odds, they have both forgiven each other.

 _I will never let go of you again,_ Shiro thinks fiercely, _unless you want me to,_ and that’s a scary thought, to think that after everything and even after forgiveness that Adam might not want him, but Shiro is hoping, big-hearted and shaky, for the first time in years. He presses his nose into Adam’s hair, and breathes him in. He smells like he did when he was writing his thesis, stressed and sleep-deprived, coffee hanging to him. He smells like his shampoo and like the inside of a plane. He flew all the way here the second he heard, just ran out and bought a ticket.

“Christ,” Adam says, “look at me, I’m a _mess,_ I was gonna say something really cool when I saw you but then I just — all I wanted to do was just look at you.” He draws back and stares into Shiro’s eyes, hands landing on his shoulders. “I missed your stupid face so much.”

Shiro laughs, exhausted and full of love, so full he might drown in it. If he went outside, right now, he knows the stars would be out. If he went outside right now, he knows the world would be welcoming them.

“Takashi—”

“I was such an idiot,” Shiro says, before he can even speak. “I was so stupid, Adam, nothing means more to me than you, not — not the mission, not my job, not anything. That fight we had was so dumb, it was so—”

“I was dumb too,” Adam says, fiercely. “I knew it was your dream, I just — I was so afraid for you, I wanted you with me, I never wanted to let you go—”

“It wasn’t my dream,” Shiro says, hands coming up to land on top of Adam’s, which are still covering his own face. “I thought it was, but it wasn’t. I realized the minute I left that all I wanted was to come home to you.”

Adam makes a wounded noise. “Just come here, just—”

And then Adam kisses him, for the first time in years. His mouth is warm and tender, salty from tears. His hands cradle the sides of Shiro’s face, thumbs tracing over all his new scars, all the new ugly parts of his face that Shiro knows, instinctively, that Adam will love nonetheless. In that kiss is a thousand different things, a million different flavors and intonations of _I missed you_ and _I’m sorry_ and _I love you, I love you._

“God,” Shiro mumbles, pulling back. “Marry me.”

Adam’s eyes well up with tears again. “Sweetheart,” he says, “do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to get your ass back here and ask me that?”

“I dunno,” Shiro says, grinning, and letting his forehead lean up against Adam’s. His boyfriend. His fiance. His home.

He’s allowed to be sappy about this, he thinks. He’s in love.

“Probably like five years?” he says, softer, a little sadder. He had meant to joke about it, but he doesn’t know if he can. Even now it’s still too fresh. “Give or take.”

“Five years,” Adam says. “Seven months. Thirteen days.”

“I’m so sorry,” Shiro says. They’re still wrapped around each other, but Shiro reaches down to grab his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m so sorry.”

Adam is quiet for a second, dual emotions warring on his face, but sadness loses to a sort of quiet peace. “Someday soon you’re gonna have to tell me the whole crazy story,” he says. “And tell me why you dyed your hair white and why you’re dressed up like Bucky Barnes.”

Shiro has to laugh, at that ridiculous and very in-character observation. “I promise I’ll tell you everything,” he says. “I promise.”

“You look exhausted,” Adam says, quietly.

Shiro snorts. “And you’ve definitely had better lines than that for getting me into bed.”

“Oh, _gross,_ ” Keith says, and they both jump. Shiro had forgotten he was here. He looks hugely entertained, and very fond, but he also can’t exactly move with Lance snoring on his thigh. “Like, the PDA was bad enough, but _please._ My virgin ears.”

“Asshole,” Shiro says, going red. “I’m trying to have a moment.”

“You can have a moment away from me,” Keith says. “Adam’s right, you’re exhausted. Go take a nap and be gay somewhere else.” Then Keith waves. “Hi, Adam. By the way.”

“Hi, Keith,” Adam says, bemused. “Who’s that?”

“Oh, that’s my dumbass boyfriend,” Keith says, smiling sappily down at Lance. “His name’s Lance. You can meet him tomorrow once he’s gotten at _least_ twelve hours of sleep.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Adam says. Then he tugs on Shiro’s hand, still laced with his. “Come on. We can find a room.”

Shiro glares at Keith, who has poorly concealed a snort. “For sleeping,” he says.

“Do whatever you want with your fiance on your own time, man, I don’t care,” Keith says, “just _go away._ ” He’s smiling, though, very sweet and very genuine, and Shiro is so full of love at the moment that he doesn’t have the energy to be annoyed at Keith for teasing him. He just grins back instead.

“Come on, Takashi,” Adam says, his mouth curling up, gentle, and Shiro goes.

 

They end up curled together on a bed too small for two grown men to be curled on together. Shiro tells him about his arm and his hair, tells him about dying and missing him and finding Keith and missing him. About flying a Lion, how you feel the echo of its thoughts and choices in your bones, how you feel like you’re just an outlet, an avatar, for something much bigger than you are.

“But I’m not sick anymore,” he offers, weakly, at the end of it all.

“And you’re home,” Adam says. “To stay?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro admits. “I want to be. I — now that I have you back, I don’t know if I can be away from you.”

Adam is quiet again, then he sighs. “I’d go with you,” he says. “If you went back out there.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“I like learning about space,” Adam says, wryly. “I don’t like being in it. Too big. Too many black holes.” He pauses, then reaches up and traces the scar over Shiro’s nose. “But yeah. I’d go.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Shiro says, and he doesn’t, so hopefully they won’t have to deal with it, hopefully he can stay here on Earth, be their man on the ground, be in love. He wants to get married. He wants to go back to waking up next to someone. He wants to sleep in too late and have Adam yank off the covers and run, laughing, like an asshole. He wants to cook dinner as the sun goes down outside his window and he wants to stop having so many nightmares. He had all these things once and he didn’t get to keep them. He came back to life. He’s going to get to keep them now.

Adam kisses him again, thumb tracing his lips before he leans in, and Shiro shudders with it, with the gentleness, with the affection. He can feel the ring on Adam’s finger, where they’re holding hands. This. He’s going to get to keep this.

“Marry me,” he says, again, breathless. Adam’s smile is blinding, even in the dark.

“How about tomorrow?” he asks, and he’s joking, but Shiro can’t laugh.

“I would,” he says. “If you wanted to. If you — if you still want me.”

“I’m never gonna stop wanting you,” Adam says. “You’re it, for me. You’ve always been it.”

“Then marry me,” Shiro says. “And I’ll marry you, and we can — we can do this all right, this time. We can go home.”

“Home,” Adam echoes, and sighs, and presses closer, closing his eyes. “Home. Yeah, that sounds good.”

They fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, and Shiro’s heart settles back into his chest, like it never left in the first place.

 

**Author's Note:**

> title from _once more to see you_ by mitski, a sad banger
> 
> disclaimer: i've watched like 2 episodes of voltron and a couple compilations of hunk's best moments so like ... canon vld is not my friend, i don't know her. however i DO know the amazing el (@lancearchive on twitter) and her mind and writing are both so powerful that i ended up stanning the characters anyway. so i just do my thing over here where the canon police cant catch me. 
> 
> anyways im gay yeehaw
> 
> EDIT AFTER S7 DROPPED: canon vld has not been careful enough w any of the characters and does not treat them right so as of right now im confiscating them. theyre mine now. im gay yeehAW


End file.
